


Faith and Foxgloves

by tempered_rose



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Angst, Botany, Danger, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Survival, request, toxin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:49:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble request that I kind of answered?</p><p>The request was: what if illya had a hobby that he kept hidden bc he was kind of embarrassed by it, like idk something the other kgb agents would scoff at, like baking cakes or making friendship bracelets, and gaby walks in on him while he's working on something and he's sweatin but she thinks it's cute????</p><p>Well Anon, I kind of gave him a hobby...and then made it angsty. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted ;-;</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith and Foxgloves

The plane had crashed about three miles to the southeast of their current location. Illya was busy clearing the way through the thick underbrush and Gaby was quickly following along behind. It had only been the two of them on board, with the exception of the crew, but unfortunately the pilot had been injured and Illya had promised to send aid back for him once they got to any sort of town. After having looked over several maps and determined the best route to take, Illya and Gaby had set off for the small town that was supposed to be on the other side of the mountain.

They’d been hiking for a few hours before Illya had decided that they stop near a small stream to get some water and to rest. Gaby looked as if she could use it, with some twigs in her hair and pine needles sticking out of her shoes. Those must not be comfortable, Illya thinks to himself as he kneels to fill his canteen. To her credit, Gaby hasn’t whined about having to trek through the mountains and this makes Illya happy on some level. She really is strong.

And curious, he notes as when he looks up from filling up his canteen she’s gone, but he can see the color of her shirt and she’s not too far way. He relaxes and moves to sit on a large rock that she had vacated. He’s thinking about looking over the map when he sees Gaby start wandering back, but her attention is caught by something growing on the ground. Illya watches her carefully, until he sees her going to reach for the beautiful flower and then time slows to a stop. Illya is up before he even is conscious of moving and he’s shouting as he reaches out for her hand.

“Don’t touch it!”

Gaby looks startled, like a deer in the headlights, and she looks confused. Illya hears his heart beating in his ears and he can’t breathe. He looks at where her hand came to stop, crushed by his own in mid-air, and it’s only a few inches above the pretty, unassuming purple flower that seems as if it needs its petals stroked to have its beauty acknowledged. Illya takes a deep breath and calms down.

“Just don’t touch it.” He says again and lets go of her hand. He backs away, only after Gaby has moved away from the plant and sits back down on the rock that he jumped off of before. Illya busies himself by running his hands through the cold stream of water that’s bubbling along beside them. He can feel Gaby’s eyes on him but he doesn’t look up, the panic only just beginning to settle down.

“Why--?” She starts but then stops and Illya takes a few moments to finally calm all the way down before he answers.

“You would have died. The toxin gets onto skin and absorbed. There is still many miles to travel before village and you would have died.” He says the latter part again and he feels something squeeze inside his chest. The thought of Gaby dead is just something he can’t stand.

“How do you know that? Do they teach botany in KGB school?” She asks, trying to be flippant, but Illya can see the panic in her eyes as she glances over to the innocent-looking flower.

“No.” Illya says shortly and he isn’t going to expand on it. He thinks he blushes a little, but he refuses to think on that possibility.

“So where did you learn it then?”

“Gaby…” he warns, but she ignores.

“Well, you might be making it up.”

“I’m not.”

“Then tell me where you learned about plants.”

Illya remains silent for so long that Gaby gets an idea into her head. Illya really should have known better, anticipated what she would do if he didn’t answer her, but he didn’t think anyone would be that stupid to go back especially after he told them not to. He didn’t think she would ever brazenly ignore what he said to prove a point.

Before he can get up again, Gaby is over by the flower and reaching for it.

“Tell me.” She says again and that’s when Illya looks up to see where she is, how close she is, and his heart really does stop beating.

“Gaby, please, don’t!”

Her hand slips towards the flower and Illya can’t breathe as he sees her fingers brush over the rim of the dark purple blossom. It is a simple little flower, so very beautiful, and that’s why it’s always so effective. Illya runs over to her as Gaby hisses and stares at her fingers as they begin to redden. Illya is swearing at her in his mind and probably out loud, but it’s in Russian and she hasn’t learned _those_ words yet.

Illya’s hand grabs her by the wrist as he uses his height and strength to pull her over to the stream. It won’t do much, but it’s about the only thing he can do for now except throw her over his shoulder and run up the rest of this mountain to where a village may or may not be. Gaby’s whole hand is turning red and Illya shoves her hand under the cool water and holds it there.

“It hurts.”

“Of course it does!” He shouts, not even hiding his rage. “I told you not to do it, but you never listen!”

He’s angry at her for pushing the limits again, he’s angry at himself for not anticipating that she would have done exactly this. And he’s angry that she might actually be hurt and there isn’t anything he can do about it.

“Keep hand here.” He orders as he goes to look in his pack for anything that may reduce the inflammation or something he can use to bandage her hand with.

“I just wanted--”

“You wanted curiosity answered, I know.” He mutters in Russian and keeps going until he returns with a bandage from the tiny first aid kit and some ointment. “I hope doctor in village has tonic. Otherwise, you may lose hand.”

Gaby looks horrified but Illya shrugs. It’s a possibility and it may be something that happens. Another thought occurs to him, so he says in a slightly softer tone, “at least is not your life.”

That much is enough to have his nerves slow down so that he can think without the red haze lingering on his peripheral vision. He wraps her hand after it’s been in the water for several minutes. It still looks red and nasty, but it’s not spreading, so Illya lets himself breathe again.

“I have hobby. Botany, as you say, is not something KGB teaches.” He says quietly and moves to pick her up, Gaby struggles against him and his eyes narrow.

“I’ll walk. I can do that.”

Illya shakes his head. “Toxin is not spreading, but it will. You will not be conscious in several minutes. I carry you.” He doesn’t want to argue and Gaby looks frightened but she lets him pick her up. He carries her with one arm supporting her back and the other under her knees, and then he’s leaving the clearing as quickly as he can with her in his arms.

He’s right; she does pass out shortly after they crest the hill. Illya can feel the feverish shivers coming from her skin. He knows once the convulsions start, there’s not much more time, but he refuses to panic as he sees lights less than a mile away on the slight dip between this mountain and the next. He runs and he runs until his legs hate him and he still runs more. He runs till his lungs feel as if they will burst and his heart will explode with the demand that has been placed on it. Illya runs to save her as her body begins to shake more violently. Illya knows the progression of symptoms and he skids into the town limit as she begins to asphyxiate.

He leaves her in the care of the doctor with a few quick words in German as to what happened and what she touched as his strength fails him and Illya collapses into the chair nearby and waits for news or for exhaustion to relieve him of his anxieties. In the end, it’s the fatigue that gets him.

\---

He wakes up and hears a soft, rhythmic sound and he recognizes the sound of a cat purring. When he blearily opens his eyes, a kitten has found itself in his lap and is grooming itself while purring. Illya’s fingers itch for something soft to touch, and that’s how he ends up petting under the chin of the furry little ball. The kitten mewls and he looks up when he hears something shift above him.

Gaby has stirred in the bed and he feels the weight of a thousand suns leave his body as the anxiety fades completely. Her eyes are clear, open, and she’s smiling while watching him pet a little cat. Things are right again in the world, so Illya breathes.

“Are you going to listen when I say don’t touch?” He asks sternly. Gaby nods and Illya echoes the gesture. “What is this?”

He gestures to the kitten and Gaby smiles again as she lays back in the pillows, a healthy color in her cheeks. “Illya, it’s called a kitten. And I named him Solo.”

Illya looks at the brown and white little ball that is currently exploring his hands and trying to crawl up his arm. He makes a face that gets Gaby to laugh, exactly what he intended, and he says to her.

“Should have called it Gaby. It likes to sit on me.” Illya looks up then and Gaby and he share a smile. Everything is all right now, he tells himself.

Everything is all right.

**Author's Note:**

> Foxglove is more potent if consumed and ingested rather than touched, but there are a few plants that are extremely toxic to touch. I did not specify for this reason.


End file.
